#persychan

[jonesylium]

drowgust may be over but im not done with those three yet!!!! more of this shit <3

[jonesylium]

me and my friends (my dm) everythime i draw something utterly idiotic or extremely feely or something that make them ship unrealizable ships

[jonesylium]

i sketched a very stupid thing thinking that my and @persychan's characters have just TOO MUCH hair and i must have been clipstudiopaint-starved bcs it just got out of hand xD Sharley and Gwennifred have hair for days

[jonesylium]

there was some insingas missing for my party (soon sifrat as well)

[jonesylium]

MORE DROWS AND I DIDNTE EVEN KNEW IT WAS DROWGUST!!!! @persychan

[out-there-on-the-maroon]

persychan replied to your post “Keyleth: Do you know the Briarwoods? Taryon: I’ve never heard of...”

Naah, it's also true that Taryon was like a reclusive nerd. I'd be more curious in knowing if he knows (at least in fame) Dr. Ripley, which is someone more in his sphere of interests than nobility. Maybe she's a famous scientist or infamous one. Something like that...

Look, Tary was reclusive but it’s not like he was locked in a basement for 10 years. (I feel he’d have mentioned that to us by now.) Just because he didn’t get out much doesn’t mean he didn’t get out ever, or speak to another human at all, for his entire life. 

For example, I’m reclusive, have been most of my life. I lived in an isolated area for most of my life, in the deep woods, and didn’t have many close friends. For a while I didn’t even have high speed internet, companies wouldn’t lay the cables in our area because they didn’t think it was worth the cost. I still managed to hear about current events from school, my parents, news outlets, and going out and about every so often. When key government figures were in peril or died, I heard about it, especially if they were local. 

Tary lived in a city with a thriving business community. His father was trying to steer him into the family business, he definitely interacted with other humans for his life, he just didn’t like it much. 5 or 6 years ago everyone would have been talking about the Briarwoods, nobles accused of necromancy, having their lands confiscated BY THE KING HIMSELF, and dying or “dying” in a fire from an angry mob. Best case scenario, Tary woulda heart some rumors about all that. Yet twice on the show he said he didn’t know them. Worst case scenario, he did know them and he’s feigning ignorance to strike at the team later. He may be part of the Vecna cult, his fixation on recording information would certainly lend itself well to a Vecna cultist. 

I’d love to shrug this off as Sam not doing proper research for his character but, this is Sam. He pretends not to know how to D&D sometimes but he’s a very clever and calculating guy. I think there’s something else going on with Tary under the surface and I don’t trust him yet. 

[lucenorthstar]

Cloak & Dagger ! prompted by persychan! 

I really loved drawing this like... a lot. a LOT lot.

I think that, design wise, Cloak & Dagger are definitely the coolest characters Marvel ever made. 

should I color this y/n?

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

16, obviously Creote/Savant.

16:Masquerade-less AU

Ok, so, shaded-mazoku already asked for this one, which is pretty funny. But I've got a lot of supernatural juice in me, so for you, I'm doing this one as a follow-up to the vampire!Savant/hunter!Creote thing I did for you a few months ago, which you did say you wanted more of. ^_^

Hunger Comes Quickly

The vampire is sitting in the corner of Sasha's hotel room and sulking. It doesn't sound very dramatic--vampires are typically depicted in fiction as more brooding--but sulking is the accurate term. There's a hint of a pout, even.

Sasha is sitting on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots, which is a bit of a project given that they go all the way up to his knees. He's already chalked defensive sigils onto the windowsills and the threshold of the door and hung up his coat, and his kit is laid out on top of the dress in a small protective circle. The dirty dishes from room service are in the hall already, since he tries not to invite people into his private rooms unless he absolutely has to.

The vampire--Brian--is in his sulk because Sasha brushed off his earlier attempts at conversation. Now he's perched in the room's one armchair, knees drawn up under his chin and his bare toes curling over the edge of the cushion. He watches Sasha with faintly luminous eyes. The binding cuff around his wrist has already tarnished with the activation of its spells, and the sigils on it writhe under the skin of the metal.

He says, plaintively, "I'm hungry."

"You had an omelette and three servings of bacon and five pancakes." Sasha has to suppress a smile as he shrugs off his shirt and folds it. Watching the vampire plow through food like a teenager had been entertaining.

"That's not what I mean and you know it. You caught me before I got any real dinner tonight."

"I know." Sasha undoes his belt and sets it aside, tugs his undershirt out of his jeans. "If I had a packet of blood I would give it to you, but at this time of night all the butcher shops will be closed."

Brian makes a face. "Just as well. Pig's blood gives me the hiccups."

"Come over here."

There's a brief silence as Brian blinks at him repeatedly. "I beg your pardon?"

Sasha sits down at the head of the bed, making himself comfortable against the headboard and stretching his legs out. "I said, come over here."

Brows wrinkled, Brian gets out of his chair and approaches the bed. "Was there...was there something you wanted?"

Sasha tilts his head to one side, exposing his neck. "No more than a pint and a half."

The vampire does nothing.

Sasha raises an eyebrow. "Well?"

"You're letting me...you're my dinner?"

"I'm not letting you eat anyone else, if that's what you're asking. And I don't believe in starving people."

Brian takes a step forward, then pauses. "Shouldn't we have done this before you ate dinner?"

"I have a protein bar."

Another moment of nervous nothingness, and then the vampire gets onto the bed beside him, then moved to sit straddling Sasha's legs. He pauses to pull his own long hair out of the way before leaning in and fastening his teeth on Sasha's neck.

It doesn't hurt, exactly. Vampires produce a mild anesthetic in their saliva, presumably to make hunting easier. Instead the skin of Sasha's throat tingles, the contact points of the bite a faint and almost pleasurable prickle along his nerves. Brian's hands close over his shoulders, and there's a moment of tug before the blood truly begins to flow.

Sasha feels light-headed almost immediately. And he can feel the vampire getting warm, going from room temperature to normal human ranges, almost feverish, in a matter of seconds. Or perhaps it's not feverish, and it's just that the slow but steady loss of blood is making Sasha feel cold.

He counts the seconds carefully, trying as best as he can to monitor how much Brian's had to drink, and when he judges that it's been a bit more than a pint he lifts a hand and taps the vampire on the chest, saying weakly, "Stop now."

He can feel the fangs coming out of his neck. Brian leans back, rolls his neck, looks down at Sasha, and then leans back in.

Sasha starts to get worried about the strength of his binding magic--

The vampire is licking the bite mark--perhaps cleaning up any spilled blood, but also laving the punctures themselves with a focus that puzzles Sasha until he feels them closing. And it's is more erotic than Sasha would care to admit, especially given how long it's been since he's been with anyone in a sexual context. Ideally Brian will be a gentleman and not comment on his erection, since he has no intention of turning this into that sort of encounter.

Brian settles back a bit, moving his head up so he can look Sasha in the eyes, and says, softly, "Thank you. You're kinder by far than many hunters would be in this situation. Most would have let me go hungry."

"I don't believe in starving people," Sasha says. "Not even demons."

"May I kiss you? Verbal thanks seem somewhat inadequate."

Sasha, who was in the middle of trying to say something else, stops and stares.

Brian seems to take the stare as assent and leans forward to kiss him. Sasha can feel the vampire's fangs against his lower lip--and, for a disconcerting moment, taste his own blood on the vampire's tongue.

When Brian gets up and returns to his chair, Sasha sits for another moment, stunned, and then digs the protein bar out of his pocket. It's slightly crushed, but that's hardly important for replenishing blood. And though his normal inclination is to sleep naked, this night he leaves on his boxers and undershirt, feeling obscurely as if undressing entirely in front of the vampire would lead to things happening that he's not prepared for at the moment.

He pulls up his blankets and turns out the light.

Across the room, Brian's eyes glow in the darkness, and he says, pleasantly, "Thank you, Sasha. Good night."